Book Covers
by LiteratiAngel
Summary: …I am the Virgin Queen. A beacon for my people, a puppet for my Council. What am I to them but a woman with no worldly opinions or worthwhile thoughts?” “Nah, I don’t think so…it’s all just book covers." A Ten/Elizabeth I fic using EoT SPOILERS! R&R!
1. The Morning After the Night Before

**Book Covers**

**Disclamer: Ha! I wish! I own nothing of Doctor Who, it's characters or plotlines, and I also don't own any historical figures mentioned in this fic, or any other recognisable items mentioned.**

**Disclaimer Take Two: I also don't own the lyrics to _Shipwrecked_...they belong to Chameleon Circuit...Ok, so it's really about the Tardis in RotC and AoS but it fits really well with this pairing and it's good to listen to the song as you read!  
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**A/N: SPOILERS for End of Time Part One contained in this fic!!! Yes, that's right...SPOILERS!!! If you don't want to be SPOILERed, look away now!!!  
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**A/N Take Two: This originally started off as a challenge from my wonderful matey Vicky/Ianto (a.k.a. ConfusedinTime) to write a parody-esque fic based on Ten's scandalous confessions about his sex life in the CiN snippet of EoT but it's become a lot more serious since I started writing it and made Elizabeth into a proper character instead of a one-night-stand. All historical references *should* be accurate because I'm a Tudor history student but feel free to point out any errors if you find them!**

**A/N Take Three: I'll shut up after this...honest! Please enjoy the fic, but when you're done, have a go at pressing that purdy li'l button at the bottom of the page...pretty please with a Time Lord on top?**

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_Now my race are erased, nothing but the memories.  
Folktales told through time.  
Legacy meant to be buried with the Yale keys  
And my remaining lives._

_What happens when all the lights go out?  
There's no way back, we're stranded now.  
_

_What happens when everything goes dark?  
It's got no life left in its heart._

_I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,  
Seems I'm not that clever after all..._

_A green glimmer of hope, we can't let it go to waste.  
If I give some of my life, we'll use it to escape this place.  
Where are they running off to? I thought that they would care.  
Try to keep them safe, they don't know what lies out there..._

**Shipwrecked - Chameleon Circuit**

The Morning After The Night Before

The sun sparkled shyly through the ostentatious drapes, bathing the Doctor in weak yellow light, just bright enough to penetrate through his restless doze, although on a lesser scale than the splitting headache he was currently experiencing. He blearily opened his eyes, letting his eyelids flutter shut every so often as he realised just how strong the sun was becoming. A hand pushed lightly through his tangle of unruly brown hair but it took him a few moments to figure out that it wasn't his own.

He cautiously sifted through the memories of the previous night. _"Oh!"_ he muttered in surprise, followed by _"Ohhh…"_; disgust coloured his voice, mingled with something dangerously close to fascination. His exclamations became even more pronounced as the recollections continued to flow…That's the unfortunate thing about a Time Lord's photographic memory; it's so damn _vivid!_

He remembered what year he was in; 1559, the first year of Elizabeth I's reign. He also remembered that he was there for the Twelfth Night revels and he had met a beautiful lady-in-waiting during last night's masque. What he _couldn't_ remember, however, was taking her _'home'_ afterwards. She had been blonde, with wide brown eyes and a large, pretty smile…_and her name had been Rose…_

He shivered, despite the fact that the room was nowhere near cold because of the roaring fire that had been stoked to a sweltering perfection. Slowly, painfully almost, he shifted his weight so as to see whose room he had shared the previous night, but instead of the smiling blonde he had danced with, he found a very different woman. Flaming red curls and dark, intuitive eyes.

"_Didst thou sleep well, my lord?"_


	2. Chasing Innocence

Chasing Innocence

_The candlelight danced across the grandiose jewels of Elizabeth's ladies, reflected in the intricately wrought panes of Venetian glass that stood against one wall of the great hall of Whitehall. She mused that it was fitting that she should hold her first Christmas as Queen in the home that her mother and father had made together._

_Lettice Knollys danced out of the formation to read her lines in the masque, whilst Robert Dudley watched her smugly from a darkened corner of the hall. He had devised all the Christmas entertainments and tonight was his crowning glory; The Masque of the Winter Queen. Elizabeth herself would have danced but she had to retain some sense of decorum as an example to her subjects. _Subjects…_this new life would take some getting used to._

_It was then that she spotted him. It was not difficult; although he weaved with amazing fluidity through the dancers, he dressed quite oddly and looked like he owned the room, or at least thought he did. Every female eye in the room was trained on him, as if he was the Earth and they the Sun, ordained to be drawn to wherever he ventured; some irrefutable force that forever trained the eye towards this salient individual._

_She crooked her finger and beckoned to him, marvelling at how similar a gesture her father would have made; she was a true Tudor Queen. He almost bounded towards her, his delight at being singled out from the court clear in his beaming face. Innocent, somehow; like an angel._

"And who, pray tell, are you, sir?"_ she queried._

"John Smith, Your Majesty. Lord of Time."_ His voice was clear and confident. It reminded her somewhat of the joyous tolling bells on the morning of her coronation. Despite this, his title confused her._

"Lord of _Thyme?_ Art thou a gardener, my lord?"_ Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Robert stiffen at her familiar tone. Her flirtations were usually reserved for him alone._

"No, no! No, I mean time, as in clocks and stuff…you know, time…it passes?"

"I'm afraid you talk in riddles, my lord. One can hardly suppose that one man alone can govern the whole of such a fickle friend as time."

"Ahh, well, that's where we differ, you see."_ It seemed he was done with the formalities. _"You're assuming that I'm an ordinary man."

"I see. Are you not?"

"Nah…I'm much more extraordinary!"

"You seem so certain of yourself, sir. One might deem it impertinent, were your words not spoken with such absolute certainty. You truly believe it, don't you?"

"Yeah…why not?"

"Hmm…Well, enjoy the festivities, my lord. I shall hope to continue our conversation later."_ She smiled regally and waved him away towards the dancers._

_Robert, who was clearly stung by her flirtations with another man, proffered his hand. She took it graciously and let him lead her out onto the floor. The minstrels were playing a country refrain, meaning that Elizabeth had to dance close to Robert. He was always just a little too much when he danced with her; he didn't seem to realise that there were lines that were not to be crossed, especially now that she was his Queen. His hand travelled further down her back until it rested at the base of her spine, drawing her closer to him until she was pressed indecently close to him. His lips were close to her ear, his breath tickling the strands of stray hair than hung there. He whispered to her._

"Elizabeth…My Elizabeth…Stop watching the stranger…He means nothing…Nothing compared to us…"

_At another time, she might have done as he asked; ignored the stranger and focussed solely on him, her one true friend and love, but tonight, she somehow couldn't tear her eyes away from the mysterious lord with the unfamiliar title. He intrigued her in a way that Robert had never succeeded in doing. He was dancing with Rose Howard, and although she loved her cousin, she couldn't help but ill-wish the little whore._

_The dance finished and she broke away from her erstwhile partner and clapped her hands to signal another dance, but she waved away the other dancers who were clamouring to form a set._

"Play a volte!"_ she commanded, and the music struck up again._

_Robert stepped forward, confident that he was to be her choice of partner but she moved away from him, offering her hand to the handsome stranger._

" A dance, perhaps, my lord?"

"Err…um…sure…yeah, I guess, I mean, that's not gonna change a thing, right…yes…but I've, uh, never done a volte before…"

"Then we had better hope that you are quick to learn, hadn't we?"

_The beat changed instantaneously as Elizabeth stepped away from him in one lithe motion and clapped her hands to the slow throb of the tabor. She slinked towards him, then away again. Just close enough that she could almost touch him, but never did. That is the magic of the volte. It's the ultimate dance of courtship and seduction. When the rhythm finally came together with the music, she stepped over the invisible line between them and into his arms, as he threw her up in the air. His strong hands caught her firmly by the waist and pulled her down towards him. She could feel the heat of his hands through the fabric of her gown and she flushed a light pink. The chase began again…_


	3. A Proposal of Insecurities

A Proposal of Insecurites

The Doctor rubbed his eyes, blinking quickly; he was trying to take in everything that he had remembered of the previous night but Elizabeth was sat next to him, studying him intently with those intense black pools.

_"You have something else about you, Doctor." _Her tone was measured but he could tell that she was choosing her words carefully._"All of my courtiers are perfect…they dance, sing, play the lute, gamble, all the things they are supposed to do. But it's false, isn't it? Just the same as this act that you put up to guard against me. It is not a defence, Doctor. I can see through you just as easily as one of those flimsy little girls."_

_"Ok…what do you see?"_

_"I see pain. Honest, heartbroken pain."_ Her voice was quiet, full of compassion. He couldn't imagine the woman who would one day tell her people that she had the heart and stomach of a man was sitting in front of him; she looked like a frightened child. But he couldn't allow her to be right.

_"Then you don't see anything at all"_ he clarified, his voice forceful in its conviction.

_"Perhaps you are right. Perhaps this is all just girlish fantasy, nothing more than a fancy."_ She shrugged it away.

_"You're more perceptive than you look, Lizzie…"_ he conceded.

"'Lizzie'…_hmm, yes, I like that name…But I am not all that perceptive. I am the Virgin Queen. A beacon for my people, a puppet for my Council. What am I to them but a woman with no worldly opinions or worthwhile thoughts?"_

_"Nah, I don't think so…it's all just book covers."_

_"I'm afraid I do not follow…"_

_"Book covers…you know, _'don't judge a book by its cover'_?…Oh, hang on, after your time, I think. Now who said it…? Was it Satre? Nah, too pretentious…hmm…Cary Grant! Lovely bloke…took me for a ride in his pink submarine…_Operation Petticoat_…brilliant film!…What was I talking about?"_

_"B-book covers…"_

_"Oh yeah! I suppose another way of saying it would be _'all that is gold does not glitter…not all those who wander are lost…'_ No, wait a minute, that's _'Lord of the Rings'_…"_

_"Another of your strange titles, perhaps?"_

_"Ha! Good one! What I mean is that you're not all that you might appear to be as far as those idiots in your council are concerned…I mean, you saw right through me and believe me, that's difficult!"_

_"So what am I, then, Doctor?" _There was a desperate edge to her otherwise steady voice. If he hadn't picked up on it, she could've been asking a completely normal question, but he and he alone could see that she was a Queen not secure in her reign, a girl struggling to prove that she's a woman, a woman conflicted between desire and duty. She was lost and only he could find her.

_"You are, or at least you will be, the greatest monarch this country has ever known. You're an amazing woman, Elizabeth. You've ridden out the stain on your mother's character, you've survived plots and threats, you've been imprisoned in the Tower..."_ She shuddered, her eyes glistening. He took her hand._ "If you can live through that, you can survive anything."_

_"But that is all I have..._survival._ I am the consummate survivor, I have to be."_ The tears she had been holding back spilled over her flushed cheeks and, for the first time since he had lost Rose for the second time, he allowed himself to hold a woman because he _wanted_ to, not because he _needed_ to. He took Elizabeth in his arms, cradling her there. She was so fragile that for a second, he was afraid that he might break her, but then he remembered the Warrior Queen, the formidable force. Truly Henry VIII's daughter. He couldn't stop himself...

_"Marry me, Elizabeth. Marry me."_


	4. Icy Smoke Orchards

Icy Smoke Orchards

_Their volte ended and, disregarding the rumours that she knew would fly, she left for the gardens, the stranger trailing in her wake. She could not care enough to consider Cecil's reaction, let alone the storm that Robert would ring over her head later. She could not even control her thoughts or actions well enough to change her decision; she had never been so reckless in all her twenty-five years...but that was not going to stop her._

_She led him to the apple orchard; her footsteps a dance for him to follow, and follow he did, but in that respect he was no different to any other man. If there was one thing that Elizabeth knew with absolute certainty, it was that men would always follow her. She had clearly caught his eye but that was nothing new to her; what puzzled her was the absolute innocence in the looks her threw at her. His eyes, so old in their depths, almost out of place in the handsome, boyish face, yet the utter transparent purity they held whenever they caught her eyes. She could not fathom it...but she would._

_She turned to face him; her full skirts swirling in the powdery snow._

"John..." _she whispered, remember the name he had given when he introduced himself._

"Your Majesty..."_ It seemed he had grown cautious of her advances, but that would not trouble her; she knew when to chase and when to pull away. Something about this beautiful stranger told her to push on with the chase and take down the stag._

"You know my name, do you not?"_ she asked, deliberately provoking him to utter it. He looked at her, his eyes assessing every inch of her face, then he spoke._

"Elizabeth."_ His voice wrapped around her name like spun sugar; so fragile and yet so protective. She loved how it sounded coming from his lips; such warmth and invitation in four syllables…she almost leaned towards him. Almost._

_She took one, solitary step forward, stretching out her hand to caress his face. His skin was velvety with the rough edge of a growing beard. She took another step; she was so close to him. Her hand pushed into his tousled brown hair, feeling its softness, the way it slipped through her fingers with such ease and still looked like a bird's nest._

_She broke so easily; the step was simple, the last move in the dance when you draw near your partner. It was the volte all over again, except this time, she had no audience to play for. She was alone with him and vulnerable to the alien feelings that were swirling around inside her._

"Do I have to get permission to kiss the Queen?"_ he enquired, a slight amusement in the tilt of his head._

"Well, I _am _Queen, so it should be my prerogative to grant permission, should it not?"_ Even when she drew herself up to her most regal height, she did not measure up to his towering stature._

"So…that permission…have I got it?"_ He seemed uncertain but she could her the confidence in his voice growing as she smiled desirously._

"Yes"_ she breathed, closing her eyes slowly._

_His warm palms cupped her face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks gently. His brought his head down towards her and pressed his lips against hers for just a second. It was _torture._ She did not open her eyes but she felt, as much as heard, his sigh of contentment. He rested his forehead against hers and she let herself mould into the warmth of him._

_But no matter how much she tried to be satisfied by his kiss, she wanted more from him; she wanted the passion that she saw in Robert when he looked at her. She wanted fire, not the chaste kisses that she could have had from any other courtier looking for a step up the ladder of court fortune._

_She put her hands over his and opened her eyes. He was staring at her absorbedly and, without thinking, she pushed upwards on her toes and brought her lips to his. They moulded instantly into one another, until she could not tell whose lips were whose, whose hands belonged to whom. She felt the desperation in his movements as his mouth pushed against hers, leaving her gasping for air in the frozen orchard. Their breath was mirrored in puffs of icy smoke in the air as his hands grasped at her hair, pulling her closer, deepening their kiss. His tongue traced her bottom lip and she almost pulled back from the sin that she was bound to commit if he continued, but the fresh, warm scent of him made her continue to savour the sensation of his lips against hers; moving as one; a rhythm, a dance. The volte in its most perfect achievement…_


	5. First and Last

First and Last

The second the words left his mouth he recoiled from her. It was nothing to him; a reflex action, but he felt her flinch as he moved away. He wished he didn't have to hurt her, but he knew from experience that_ 'Time Lord'_ and _'marriage'_ just didn't work out. He was too much of an adventurer to ever relish being stuck on the slow path; the movement helped him to forget and as far as he was concerned, oblivion was bliss. _"The one adventure I could never have_" was more of a lifestyle choice than a forced means of existence.

On the other hand, his 'song' was almost over, so how could a few years on the slow path with Elizabeth really change anything? If he was truly destined to die then why shouldn't he face death in the arms of a woman who he could genuinely love?

He snaked his arms around her slim waist again and felt her nestle her warm curls in his shoulder. He whispered his proposal into the soft blazing ringlets; all his desperation had vanished and the words were gentle, full of sincere adoration. She amazed him in so many ways; her blunt approach, entwined with a mysterious aura; the way she was so transparent, yet so complex. She saw right through his pretence without really understanding why or knowing anything about he really was. She was like a riveting book to him; he never wanted to stop reading the intricate patterns of the premature lines around her eyes when she smiled; the deep-set emotions in the endless pits of her beautiful black eyes.

_"Are you certain?"_

_"Never been more sure of anything in my entire life…and believe me, I'm pretty positive about most things…except facebook…I've never been able to understand it…"_

_"Again, you talk in riddles!"_

_"Sorry…after your time…again…"_ He had the horrible nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that he had said too much, but there was something about her soft understanding expression that made him lose control of his mouth. He wanted to tell her everything; he knew he could trust her with anything.

_"You speak of 'after my time' as if you have seen it...as though you do not belong in this time..."_

_"Elizabeth..."_ He was silently pleading that she would let it go; that she would accept him as he presented himself to her. His ultimate pretence; his ultimate lie.

_"No, I will not pry, I am merely attempting to understand you. You puzzle me, Doctor."_ He sighed resignedly; he had always known that he would tell her everything.

_"What exactly do you know about time?"_

_"Time? I must admit that I don't know as much as I might like..."_

_"Brilliant!"_ he said, grinning uncontrollably.

_"It is? I'm afraid I do not follow..."_

_"It's brilliant that you're a novice about it. I feel like you know everything already so it's nice to know that I can teach you something. It means that I can explain it from the beginning...I don't get to do that very often..."_

_"Is that what you enjoy, Doctor? Teaching?"_

_"Nah...not much...I taught physics once and it didn't go too well...I mean, the kids were great, you know. They knew all the answers, but that might have had something to do with the Krillitane oil on their chips but whatever...nah, it was me more than anything...I actually said_ 'Correctamundo'!..." He would have continued talking had he not seen her expression of complete and utter bewilderment. _"Sorry...so, right...time...Weeelll....you see, it's all a bit subjective really. It's wibbly wobbly...timey wimey..._stuff. _Kinda hard to explain really...nothing happens in any particular order, well, not for me, anyway. For you it feels like everything happens in a set pattern but that's not right at all. Life and time are all interlinked...if you make decision A, it leads to fixed point in time B, but equally, you could make decision C and end up with fixed point in time D. In some situations, you can even make decision A, which leads to decision C, which ends up at flux time E. It's all scientific and complicated but that's where I come in..."_

_"Because you are the_ Lord of Time?" she said with some amusement.

_"Yeah, exactly. There is..._was_...this species called the Time Lords and we controlled time, we regulated it, made sure it wasn't abused. That's who I am."_ He finished his declaration quite lamely with a shrug and a raise of his eyebrows, as if daring her to question him, although he wasn't prepared for it when she did.

_"When you say 'species', do you mean different from humans?"_

_"Uh...yeah. Yeah, kinda. Yeah, I do."_

_"So you expect me to believe that you aren't human?"_

_"Umm...sure..."_

_"Well if I_ am _to believe that...what exactly_ are _you?"_

_"I told you...I'm a Time Lord..."_

_"So you are an..._alien?"

_"Yup."_ He wasn't entirely sure where she was going with her line of questioning, since she wasn't running away from him and screaming. It showed in the enhanced plosive sound he used to emphasise the 'p'. Deep down, he knew she wasn't the running and screaming type.

_"Interesting..."_

"Good _interesting...or_ bad _interesting...?"_ He was almost afraid of the answer.

_"Good, I think. Possibly heretical but I believe that God will forgive me for this."_

_"Forgive you for..._what_, exactly?"_

_"Falling in love. My mother was cut off in her prime because she married a man for ambition. She may have loved my father but it was never in the same way that she loved Henry Percy. She died for her ambition. I refuse to follow in those footsteps. If I am to die before my time, it shall be for the love of a man, rather than the love of power."_

_"You're an incredible woman, Lizzie. Amazing."_

_"My Council would disagree with you on that count, Doctor...But when you spoke of your race, you used the past tense...You are the only one of your kind remaining?"_

_"Yeah...I'm the last of the Time Lords. There was a war..."_

_"Then_ _we are the same. I am the last of the Tudors. The fate of my House lies in my hands...and what a fate it is. What a burden."_

_"I know...believe me, I know...but you didn't answer my question..."_

_"Yes." _Her voice was as breathless and determined as it had been in the orchard the previous night when she had granted him the permission to kiss her.

~*~


	6. Curiosity Leads to Discoveries

**A/N: Vague hint of smut in this chapter...I tried my best to keep it as PG as possible tho =]**

* * *

Curiosity Leads to Discoveries

_Pins were easy. His hands pulled them so gently and they relinquished their battle before it had even begun. Her fiery bronze curls unravelled, falling like a blazing waterfall down her back and she shook them out, ecstatic to finally be free of the constricting hood and its sharp pins. She laughed as she saw them scattered amongst the rushes that were strewn across the floor. She had a sudden urge to run her hands through the lavender and straw that littered her room; purifying the air, protecting her from contamination. What happens, she wondered, if I am contaminated by another sickness…what happens if I am overcome by the freedom of love?_

_His kisses became more urgent and she knew where it would lead to, but it didn't matter that she had a reputation, and a country, to protect…all that mattered was that exact moment; the tiny bubble that surrounded them, shrouding them in its protection so that they might just enjoy one another's company. She knew that she was acting like a lovesick girl but perhaps that was exactly what she needed to be._

_She broke away from his insistent kisses, breathless and laughing. She turned her back to him, the laces of her gown just inches from his fingers; she leaned back gracefully, the perfect curve of her spine closing the gap between them. She turned her head slightly so she could see his face; the warm, inviting smile, the dark, brooding eyes. She stretched and kissed him chastely and his hands moved to her back._

_In his impatience, the laces broke swiftly and she heard the soft clatter as the whalebone stomacher hit the floor. Kat might chide her for leaving it there but she supposed that it would be the least of Kat's troubles once she discovered the truth behind its disposal._

_His curiosity was matched only by his eagerness as he fisted handfuls of her hair and pulled her towards her again, his mouth claiming hers with a sort of primal possessiveness that she had never experienced before. She was glad that it was him who had introduced her to it as soon as she heard the primordial growl that tore from his throat as he buried his face in her neck. She fought the urge to laugh as she considered that appearances, of this man in particular, were deceiving._

"Elizabeth…"_ he whispered, his voice deep and guttural; claiming her name for himself with just his voice. His eyes, which had been so full of poorly hidden anguish, sought out her face as he turned her toward him again; they were now heavy-lidded and filled with longing._

"John…"_ she replied, equal in her yearning, but he stepped away from her, leaving the cool air to throw a chill down her body. It created a distance between them that she did not want, and did not think she could bear._

"That…that may be a problem…" _He seemed to be having trouble controlling his emotions, much less his voice, which was unsteady and trembling._

"What might be a problem?" _A sinking sensation plummeted to the bottom of her stomach and a feeling of refutation washed through her. He did not want her._

"I lied to you, Elizabeth. My name isn't John Smith…"

"Then who are you, sir?"

"I'm the Doctor."

"Doctor what? What is your full title?"

"That's it…I'm the Doctor…_just_ the Doctor…although the Lord of Time thing was true if that makes any difference?"

"Is the mysterious moniker designed to impress me?"

"Um sort of…? I mean, not _just_ you…I didn't just make it up on the spot or anything, it's my real name…but yeah, it's supposed to sound at least a little bit impressive…I mean, are you?"

"Am I what, pray tell?"

"Impressed?" _She couldn't help herself, seeing him there with his hair tousled by her fingers, his eyes filled with yearning, and the juxtaposition of this and the manic expression on his face because he was desperate to know if he impressed her; she couldn't stop the low chuckle escaping her lips. He beamed at her._

"I'll take that as a yes…" _He smiled mischievously. _"Now…where were we?"

She blushed.


End file.
